When she cried
by Sandoval.River
Summary: When Santana cries Brittany feels helpless, and it's not as though it's a rare occasion. A short one shot on how Brittany feels when Santana's upset, and why she picked Artie the first time round 'to have all of someone you love, or to have half of someone you can't live without.'


When she cried.

I don't own Glee or any of the characters mentioned.

Brittany doesn't really know why Santana does it, why she cries so much. She just knows that when Santana is crying, it's her job to comfort her.

Its fine when she cries for little things, Brittany can handle that. She knows exactly what to do. Whisper softly that it's alright and murmur soothing words into her hair. Like when Sue revoked her tanning privileges that was fine. Santana came to her house spouting in Spanish and waving her arms frantically. All Brittany could do was laugh, and she did, she laughed and laughed until Santana joined in. Then they laughed some more at how ridiculous it all was.

It was worse when Sue decided that she wasn't coaching the cheerios and just didn't come into school. She felt that pain too. How was she supposed to comfort Santana when she was in just as big a mess? They recovered eventually, they had to.

It got awkward though, when Santana cried after she lost to Sam and Quinn in the duets competition, because no matter how much she wanted to reach out and take her hand to settle her anger, she couldn't, because Mercedes was doing it. And Santana had now decided that she _liked _Mercedes which just made everything much worse.

That night Santana came round though. Murmuring about how she'd left her one of her shirts here and she had to have it immediately for some reason. Her excuse was pathetic. They both knew it, and a small smile graced Brittany's lips as she watch Santana roar on about how it was actually quite a nice shirt, once you got passed the pattern. As Santana made to leave, Brittany couldn't help but wonder,

"San...Why did you come?"

She liked to think she made her voice sound normal, like she asked the question out of curiosity and not accusingly.

She watched Santana's hand still as it reached for the handle. She spun around quickly, plastering on her cheer leading smile.

"Had to get my shirt, didn't I Brit-Brit"

She waved her shirt in the air as if it was the most obvious thing ever. Brittany narrowed her eyes daring her to say something else, something more. She heard Santana exhale.

"Britt-bee, I seriously just had to get my shirt."

She flashed another winning smile and made for the door. Neither of them said goodbye.

The next day in school was almost normal. Brittany put it down to keeping up appearances. But they never really said much; just cast each other sideways glances when they thought the other wasn't looking.

They always caught each other's eyes though. When both of them would go to look, and accidently their eyes would meet and, almost like glue they'd have to be prised apart from will power alone.

Brittany never really understood why Santana was so comfortable crying in public though. She was such a defensive person. She wondered if she didn't understand cause she was stupid and Santana was smart.

Sometimes when Santana cries though, things feel a hella lot worse for Brittany. The term 'feel someone else's pain' doesn't even begin to cover it. She feels like she's drowning in Santana's tears.

Brittany feels that in some twisted way, if she's extra nice to the world it will make up for Santana's ill doings. Brittany doesn't think she's the nicest or the kindest of people. Hell, the unholy trinity used to plan ways to torture Rachel Berry. But she knows there's a line and Santana crosses it. A lot.

But amongst everything Santana can do, there's things she can't. And Rachel Berry was right when she said Santana can't take it. Brittany would find it frustrating if you didn't find it all so adorable. When she was comforting Santana after the whole '_the only job your ever gonna have is working on a pole' _fiasco, Brittany found Santana crying the most endearing thing ever.

She still came over almost every night. But it was just like old times, and Brittany hated that. She could handle a crying Santana but not an ashamed Santana. So when Artie did take such an interest in her, she found it so, so refreshing.

It was no secret she'd been with lots of guys. If it was anyone else they'd be labelled a slut. Perhaps 'the slut'. But she was quite pleased no one remarked about her sex life or her habits. She wasn't sure if that was due to her 'innocent' nature or to Santana.

She began to get confused though not just with the normal things she usually got confused about. She was confused about everything, even Santana.

Especially Santana.

She had come to notice over the years that they seemed to come as a package deal. Yeah, Quinn was there too but that was always out of circumstance rather than design.

That's why she embraced Artie with open arms. He, in his charming, if not slightly eager form melted some of her confusion. And for that she was so, so thankful. When Santana did come round it was always impersonal and sloppy, Brittany didn't think Santana knew she'd do anything for her. Brittany didn't think Santana knew she was her everything. She wanted it; she wanted her so bad it ached. Her bones actually ached with want and love. So she went for what she wanted. After she asked Santana she felt like she should regret it. Was it really better with feelings? She was glad she did however, because now she knew exactly where she stood. She was fun for Santana, that's all.

She wasn't sure what was worse, the aching in her bones with want or the heartbreak. _The heartbreak_, she though, _definitely the heartbreak_.

She definitely didn't know how to handle a crying Santana after Landslide. She felt like landslide meant something. But with Artie it was easy. He was easy to love.

He'd asked about her one night, as they lay side by side on her bed, arms lightly touching.

"Why do you like her so much?"

She knew exactly who he was talking about. But she asked anyway.

"Who?"

"Santana, she's mean."

"She's my friend."

She heard him puff out a frustrated sigh and turn his head so he was facing her.

She'd try to explain to him what Santana was really like, then stopped because she wanted Santana all to herself and for only her to know how incredible Santana really was. Then felt utterly selfish and carried on.

"she's like..."

She waved her arms wildly in the air as though that would help her describe her.

"She just... she'd do anything for anybody."

She saw the look of shock on Artie face. His lips formed an 'O' as if to say '_this is Santana we're talking about here.'_

Brittany realised what she'd said and then realised that only _she_ knew what Santana was like.

"If they'd let her," she continued. "yeah, she's a bitch. I'm not even gonna try and deny that. But she's like, a nice bitch. She likes you guys."

Artie's face once again was utter disbelief. He nodded his head slowly. As if he couldn't quite believe Brittany expected him to believe her.

"Okay BrittBritt. Whatever you say."

Brittany frowned and turned away. Only Santana was allowed to call her that.

The next time she and Artie were out she could tell he felt bad. About being mean about Santana and acting like she was an idiot. He was being extra nice.

"Hey Britt." He said as she pushed him along, slightly humming to herself.

"All that stuff you said about Santana. She must be alright. If you like her so much, she must be."

Apart from when she was with Santana, Brittany's grin had never been so wide.

What she hadn't expected however, was for Santana to tell her she loved her. Not at all. They were at the lockers together. Keeping up appearances, Santana had been round the previous night. She had _had_ to ring the doorbell twice and do a secret knock because Brittany was home alone and she just wasn't down with dealing with creepy neighbours at this time of the night asking for sugar and what not. Brittany had been shocked when she heard their secret knock; she hadn't heard it since they were kids.

She had rushed to the door flattening down her hair self consciously and stopping every so often on the way so as not to seem too eager. She had pulled the door open slightly and one last time ran her fingers through her hair.

"Hey San," she had said, taking in the brunette that stood before her. She was standing in a big coat, making her look thinner that she was. Scarily thin.

"Hey BrittBritt, thought I'd pop by. See what you were doing. I was thinking maybe we could pop in a movie, snuggle up. Maybe we could even have popcorn!"

Brittany stood, astonished. Santana had been the sole subject of her thoughts for weeks if not months. It was one thing for her to turn up at her house, asking for snuggle time and movie time in her dreams. But they hadn't seen each other outside school much anymore, and Brittany suddenly felt very nervous. She saw Santana's face fall.

"Of course!" she jumped up and down, silently clapping her hands, like they used to.

"Come in, come in," she pulled the door wider to let Santana in. She saw Santana pull out a bottle from her bag. They stood awkwardly in the hall.

"Where's mama Peirce?" she asked, scanning the hall.

"Oh they're at my aunts; she's having some sort of party. I couldn't go. I got back from dance like, just there and they left hours ago."

She made a sad face, like she was disappointed she couldn't go, but secretly she loved the house on her own. It was so quiet and so nice.

Santana's face lit up but only for a second. She waved the bottle in the air as if to say _I brought vodka._

Then she said "I brought vodka," just to emphasise her point. All Brittany could do was smirk, because trust Santana to bring vodka to a 'movie night'.

"Alright then, go through." She pointed in the direction of the living room as if Santana didn't already know where it was. Santana smirked and took of her coat, hanging on the banister. _God, she is thin _Brittany thought as she watched her make her way through to the living room.

Brittany followed her through after getting two glasses and a bottle of lemonade to mix. She saw Santana had set up Mean Girls, and all she could do was laugh.

"Seriously San! Mean Girls again,"

Santana just shrugged and said "I can recite it, every line. Plus, did you know?"

She paused for effect trying to control her laugher, Brittany could feel it to. She began to giggle.

"Did you know," she said again through chocked breaths "that Trang Pak is a grotsky, little byotch."

Brittany full on laughed, and then said her line. "Still true,"

Santana continued "and that Dawn Schweitzer is a fat virgin"

Brittany follows suit, "Still half-true"

Then they both said the last bit, with wide grins and glinting eyes "Amber D'Alessio . She made out with a hot dog!" that was it. The both collapsed into giggles. Brittany passed Santana the glasses and she poured some lemonade in followed by a generous spill of vodka.

"Not too much San," she said whilst dimming the lights and pressing play. "I have dance super early, and I need to be feeling good otherwise I won't be looking super hot."

Santana just smirked into her drink. "You always look super hot BritBee."

The complement alongside the nickname made Brittany practically melt. She jumped up onto the couch and took the glass handed to her by Santana.

They watched the film mostly in silence, nudging towards each other every so often. And when Santana took Brittany's hand under the blanket she began to rub soothing circles on the back of her hand. They were moulded into each other when Brittany finally spoke.

"This is nice," she said speaking into Santana's shoulder so her voice was muffled. "I've missed this."

Santana yawned next to her as if wondering what she should say next. "I've missed you."

She stilled after she said it and after realising that she could in fact blame it on the alcohol and it was actually only her and Brittany there, she let herself relax. Brittany noticed Santana freeze and felt relived for once it wasn't her words causing it.

They watched the end of the movie, cheering and whooping when Aaron and Cady got together. They made to get up when the credits rolled but Santana rested her hand on Brittany's arm to stop her.

"What?" Brittany said the corners of her mouth flicking up into a smirk.

"I just want you to know that when you get up your gonna be pretty wasted" she sang the last two words just because.

Brittany just laughed, basking in Santana's presence. She got up, and then she got dizzy. It must have come across on her face because Santana laughed, actually laughed at her.

"I'm fine, God... I'm fine San,"

She took in her surroundings and then saw the bottle. There was only a little left.

"Did we drink all that?" she asked, then immediately felt stupid because who else would have.

"Sure did B, you feeling ok?" Her voice was laced with concern and once again Brittany felt her bones begin to ache.

She laughed before pulling Santana up and saying "Let's go up stairs before my parents get back, I don't want them to see me like this."

Santana gave Brittany a pointed look.

"Again. I don't want them to see me like this. Again. Happy?

"Happy as I'll ever be," she breathed through a smile. Though she didn't think Brittany heard her because she had just fallen down the stairs and was rolling around at the bottom, sick with laugher. Santana ran down after her, trying to act concerned but all she could really do was laugh along too.

The lay sprawled out at the bottom of Brittany's stairs. Hurting from laughing and wheezing in short puffs. Brittany felt, for the first time probably ever in her life, completely and utterly free. As she lay there, on her back, loose from alcohol and drunk on love surges of pain or lust ran through her body.

"C'mon San."

She hauled herself up, swaying a little as she stood, not trusting herself. She was with Artie now. Santana quickly followed and began to talk and mumble incoherently about something or other. Once again, all Brittany could do was laugh. She walked up the stairs behind Santana making sure she didn't fall, and then her eyes began to wander. Santana was outrageously stunning, Santana was outrageously thin.

"San...?" she asked, her voice a hushed whisper. They were in Brittany's bedroom now. Santana had plopped herself on Brittany's bed, leaning lazily onto her headboard, her eyes not so subtlety roaming Brittany's body as she fiddled with some music on a shelf in her room.

She simply hummed in response, her body glowing from just being around Brittany.

"Have you lost weight?" The question stunned Santana, and Brittany, in her drunker haze felt bold and powerful in asking. She saw the flash of worry flit through Santana's eyes, and wondered if she should regret asking by now. Strangely, like when she asked Santana about feelings.

The room suddenly grew a thick layer of tension, and Brittany although not regretting asking, wished for once that she had been more subtle. She saw how uncomfortable Santana had become. To ease the tension Brittany walked over to the bed, and slid up next to Santana. She felt brave but scared and began to search Santana's face for any hints on what she would do next. Santana did nothing, nothing except stare at the scratch on Brittany's door, one she'd made when they were kids, practicing the secret knock.

Brittany thanked God she was drunk, but then thought if she wasn't drunk she'd never of asked and this, whatever this was, would never have been resolved.

She ran her hand over Santana's stomach, feeling the gaps in her ribs much more defined than before. Santana flinched slightly in response but didn't pull away; she saw this as a good sign.

"San..." she pressed further, "have you?"

She saw something resembling sparks flash through Santana's eyes, as she pulled her tragic lips into a beautiful if not slightly unconvincing smile.

"Course I have B, now that we're of the cheerios I'm keeping fit. And we don't have to do Sue's crazy diets anymore so I thought I'd try out my own..."

Her voice wavered for a moment, but soon it was back, even thicker and more forced than before.

"Seems to be working, huh!"

She winked; she actually winked at Brittany, and Brittany for her part felt just so, so sad. She began to cry, just thin tears that Santana, in her drunken state probably wouldn't even notice. She pulled the sleeve of her jumper over her eyes cleaning her tears and tried to strengthen her voice.

"Show me," she said, clumps forming in her throat. "Show me your body."

Santana sat up straight, looking Brittany directly in the eye.

"Britt, if this is just a ploy to get my clothes off." She let out a nervous laugh, feeling like she missed the tension shift in the room and was struggling to catch up. "All you had to do was ask."

Santana watched as Brittany's face visibly darkened. And although Brittany knew to a certain point Santana was joking, she felt an irrational need to state her position.

"I'm with Artie now, San... and we can't keep doing this..."

"I know"

"No you don't, you wouldn't be here if you didn't. You don't get it. You don't get what this is for me. You don't get what you did to me, you only think about you"

"Britt..." she tried to interject.

"No, Santana. You don't get to talk; it's my time to talk. I gave you everything." Brittany's voice wasn't angry, more defeated, that's what Santana hated the most.

"I gave you everything," she repeated, this time softer. "I literally gave you everything. And it's not like you even threw it in my face. You just didn't want it. It was like I had said 'Hey Santana, I'm here. I'm absolutely ridiculously in love with you, and I want to give you everything I am, and everything I have' and you just sorta turned round and said 'Hmmm...no thanks BrittBritt.'" Brittany did a pale imitation of Santana's voice. "I'm sorry that your here. And I'm sorry if I like, led you on tonight. I am sorry." Her breath hitched, "But I think you should go."

Santana's eyes were dark. She swept her hair over her shoulder and let out a shaky breath. Her eyes glistened with tears and Brittany immediately wanted to take it all back. She wanted to tell Santana that she was in love with her, had been in love with since forever, and that the only reason she brought up Artie was for Santana to for once, take her relationship with him seriously.

Santana got up to leave, her body shaking and her eyes shiny. That's when Brittany realised where they were; it was late, really late. And Santana was drunk, really drunk.

That's when Brittany, not for the first time stopped Santana just as she was about to leave her bedroom door. It was becoming a pattern.

"San...wait."

Santana, again stilled as her hand reached out for the handle, and spun around. This time she didn't wear her cheerleading smile.

"Stay here tonight, you can't drive, you're drunk. And my ma and dad will be home any minute, if they find you leaving this late, they will flip-their-shit."

Brittany let out a half hearted laugh and within it Santana could swear she caught an apology. She seriously doubted she would get home safely if she left now, and she was too drunk to care about her pride, so she shimmied of her shoes, turned off the lights and crawled into bed with Brittany, but not next to her. Neither of them spoke as they tried to sleep.

Brittany awoke hours later, deeper into the night, feeling groggy and thirsty. Her throat burned. She, out of instinct threw her arms out to touch the sleeping brunette she could remember falling to bed with. But she was met with an empty space. A cold, empty space.

Santana had left.

It was nearly 5 in the morning and Santana, god knows how long ago had just up and left. Brittany's heart sank, and then rose slightly after realising she and Santana hadn't done anything. Because if they had, they would of fallen into the same old dance. And Brittany could not handle that, she remembered Artie, and that he loved her and she kinda loved him, but most of all she remember he wanted to be with her, publicly and privately. She remembered that he wasn't ashamed of her and the fact that Santana was practically made her heart bleed.

She got up to get a glass of water, and without thinking of anything or anyone fell into a glass tank of sleep where everything was safer and the edges weren't as sharp.

That's why; at the lockers Brittany hadn't expected Santana to tell her she loved her. In fact it was the last thing she expected. She had expected cold stares, maybe even harsh words.

And for her feelings, selfishly for her own heart, she chose Artie, because for Brittany, having half of Santana was worse than having none at all. She thought and reeled recklessly for nights and nights over if she had made the right decision, to have all of someone you love, or to have half of someone you can't live without. Overall her biggest regret that day though, was not chasing Santana as she cried. Because she was Brittany, and her job was to comfort Santana when she cried.


End file.
